been thinking...
Last week we went to see Your Sister’s Sister on a whim and when it wrapped and the lights came up, we stood to leave and I made some dumb joke (not even a joke really, just the kind of lazy mouth excess you allow yourself when you are finally reposed enough to stop scripting and just babble. Is that love? Is that the bane of love?) about everyone who just kept staying in their seats. And then we noticed that there were two chairs set up in front of the screen and realized that there must be some sort of Q&A afterward — which there was, with none other than one of my favorites, Mark Duplass. And I have to admit, this is a really nice perk of living in LA. That a spontaneous Friday night outing turns so casually into something you would have jumped at the chance to do. (Not every Friday night of course, because there are still those where I sit at home, stringing garlands and talking through an episode of House Hunters International, saying things like “Why don’t they ever go to Cambodia? Who wants to live in Barbados, anyway?” and asking C what he’s doing on the ipad, even though I know the answer is always either 1.) Reading some nerdy forum, 2.) Worm holing into obscure Wikipedia pages or 3.) Playing a game that does not look like very much fun and trying to find five blasted minutes of relaxation.)
This being Hollywood, the questions were intense and pointed in the way that they are when the asker is hoping with their whole tired weight that the answer includes some secret that might lead to their own success. (I blushed in my brain and realized this is what I sound like when I ask questions at book readings. Sorry Cheryl Strayed…) It was all really interesting, though I’ve never heard anyone (much less a collection of anyones) say “treatment” so many times.
Somehow I didn’t realize that the dialogue in Your Sister’s Sister — which I very much liked — was entirely improvised, just like in Lynne Shelton’s Humpday. Which absolutely blows my mind and now I want to rewatch it just to marvel at how people articulate so swiftly, so easily, when I labor over saying what I mean in words I’m allowed to rewrite indefinitely.
As we walked out, I complained that I found Mark Duplass a bit pretentious and purposely high brow. Said the shine was off him for me, and we argued all the way through the parking garage and out on to Sunset.  Then C told me not to mistake earnestness and passion — taking what you care about seriously — for pretension. And I’ve been thinking about that ever since.
Sometimes I think I’m disappointed in (read, made uncomfortable by) those who refuse to self-depricate for our benefit.
And I think that’s a really bad habit I’m going to work on. 
In other words, carry on Mark Duplass, carry on.

Last week we went to see Your Sister’s Sister on a whim and when it wrapped and the lights came up, we stood to leave and I made some dumb joke (not even a joke really, just the kind of lazy mouth excess you allow yourself when you are finally reposed enough to stop scripting and just babble. Is that love? Is that the bane of love?) about everyone who just kept staying in their seats. And then we noticed that there were two chairs set up in front of the screen and realized that there must be some sort of Q&A afterward — which there was, with none other than one of my favorites, Mark Duplass. And I have to admit, this is a really nice perk of living in LA. That a spontaneous Friday night outing turns so casually into something you would have jumped at the chance to do. (Not every Friday night of course, because there are still those where I sit at home, stringing garlands and talking through an episode of House Hunters International, saying things like “Why don’t they ever go to Cambodia? Who wants to live in Barbados, anyway?” and asking C what he’s doing on the ipad, even though I know the answer is always either 1.) Reading some nerdy forum, 2.) Worm holing into obscure Wikipedia pages or 3.) Playing a game that does not look like very much fun and trying to find five blasted minutes of relaxation.)

This being Hollywood, the questions were intense and pointed in the way that they are when the asker is hoping with their whole tired weight that the answer includes some secret that might lead to their own success. (I blushed in my brain and realized this is what I sound like when I ask questions at book readings. Sorry Cheryl Strayed…) It was all really interesting, though I’ve never heard anyone (much less a collection of anyones) say “treatment” so many times.

Somehow I didn’t realize that the dialogue in Your Sister’s Sister — which I very much liked — was entirely improvised, just like in Lynne Shelton’s Humpday. Which absolutely blows my mind and now I want to rewatch it just to marvel at how people articulate so swiftly, so easily, when I labor over saying what I mean in words I’m allowed to rewrite indefinitely.

As we walked out, I complained that I found Mark Duplass a bit pretentious and purposely high brow. Said the shine was off him for me, and we argued all the way through the parking garage and out on to Sunset.  Then C told me not to mistake earnestness and passion — taking what you care about seriously — for pretension. And I’ve been thinking about that ever since.

Sometimes I think I’m disappointed in (read, made uncomfortable by) those who refuse to self-depricate for our benefit.

And I think that’s a really bad habit I’m going to work on. 

In other words, carry on Mark Duplass, carry on.

  1. italicsmine said: I want to see this!
  2. beenthinking posted this